Distracted by the silence
I turn on the radio;
Enrique croons,
"Let me be your hero,"
and if I could
I would gladly accept his offer
but I am driving these roads
towards another destination,
a home filled with hectic children
a yapping dog, a refrigerator
in desperate need
of corndogs and Kool-Aid.

I arrive home and turn off the radio,
Enrique fades in the distance.

I could pack up my things
catch a bus and join the band,
but I decide that there
is enough music here at home;
the chatter of little muses
in the corners of my life;
birdsong, a kiss on the cheek
the mending of a little skinned knee